The warrior turned and uttered a whoop. It was evidently an understood signal, for the sound of retiring footsteps could be heard, and they were alone. The warrior turned again to Carl: “Wampset is always to be found by his friends, and by his enemies when he _chooses_ to be found. Let the young man speak. Wampset is here.” “Where?” The savage laid his hand upon his naked breast, in an impressive and graceful gesture. Carl could not doubt that he spoke the truth. “There is a young war-chief upon the banks of the great river, to whom the chief gave this belt. Long ago, the Indians gave the land to his people. But the English people of Shawmut have come and built a strong house upon the river. The young war-chief is coming to drive them away, and he sent the belt to Wampset, that he may come to his aid with all his men.” The chief mused: “I have seen the strong house of the people whom we call Yengees. They will not go away if they can help it. But, my word is given to my young brother, and I will go.” “He said that you must meet him at the three hills, near the strong house, at midnight to-night.” “It is well. Let the young man come into the village.” Carl followed him into the village, which consisted of huts formed only for summer weather. In winter they had different habitations. The chief led the way to his lodge, and invited his guest to sit upon a pile of skins in one corner. A squaw brought in two large wooden bowls, with spoons of the same material. One of the bowls contained boiled venison, and the other parched corn. Flat, wooden dishes of the same material as the rest, were placed in their hands, and the two made a hearty meal, for the young man was tired by his long ride. When the meal was over, they sat and conversed for an hour. Then the chief, thinking that the young man looked as though he needed rest, left the lodge, and Carl lay down upon the skins and slept. He rose in about an hour, and went out into the village. He found the warriors making preparations for a march. The chief joined him. “Are not these cabins cold in winter?” asked Carl. “The Indians do not dwell in such wigwams when the north wind blows cold,” said the other. “There are pleasant places high up among the hills, where the Pequods can not find us, and where we can live until the sun is warm again.” “You do not stay in one place long.” “The knives of the Pequods are long, and their arrows sharp. They have no love for Wampset. They come upon his lodges in the night; but, Wampset is not a fool. He knows when to hide, and when to be found. The sparks are not out in the lodges when the Pequods come, but the men of Wampset are gone.” “Do you ever fight them?” “When they are not too many. The braves of Wampset have often sent them howling back to their lodges. But when we are weak and they are strong, we hide in the bush. Sassacus, sachem of the Pequods, would give much wampum for the scalp of Wampset.”